


Shipwrekt

by Anonymous



Category: Battle for London in the Air (Roleplay)
Genre: F/M, Pairing Roulette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-14 07:14:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29538765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Captain French's airship experiences an accident that lands her in the East Marshes, and brings strange new things into her life.
Relationships: Cordelia French/Ithrij Lizardman
Kudos: 3
Collections: Anonymous





	Shipwrekt

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place either before Cordelia got together Andrew or in a universe where they did not get together

When she looked back at this, some time far in her future, Cordelia wondered if she’d still find it as strange as she did now.

The crash could have been worse, in some ways. No one had died, which was a blessing, as it meant she wasn’t stranded here in this strange marshy land alone. But her ship had been heavily damaged and the locals had been...strange.

Lizards.

They’d been lizards.

Giant (well, human-sized), bipedal, talking lizards, though only a few of them seemed to speak English—that was more than she would have hoped for, but it did seem to imply that this wasn’t a dream, as if it had been, she suspected it would have been all or nothing when it came to communicating.

They’d known what humans were, and that was a relief too, but it did prompt many other questions. Some of those questions had been subsequently answered by the most excitable lizard man of the bunch, who’d (eventually) introduced himself as Ithrij.

He’d taken charge of the visitors, helping them explain their situation to the apparent leader of these beings, who were clearly not well-pleased to have humans around, at least, initially. And, once it was clear the crew was more than willing to trade the goods they’d been smuggling when they crashed, Ithrij had also taken charge of trying to repair the ship.

The lizard folk weren’t at all familiar with steam power, but instead seemed to harness a strange energy that Cordelia wasn’t familiar with either. Still, Ithrij understood some of the mechanical aspects like a natural, and was more than willing to learn the rest. The biggest impediment was the limited supply of metal, and so it was that time continued to stretch and their marooned state went from days to months.

***

The thing was, time made the odd familiar.

The thing was, fondness made the strange appealing.

And maybe, Cordelia might admit, privately, Ithrij was kind of cute.

Ithrij sometimes reminded her a bit of Liz. Not, of course, in any way visually, but the drive and focus he put into his mechanical work and various chemical experiments seemed to derive from a similar spark. And as chaotic as the energy this lizard man could put off was, no one could deny that he was brilliant. 

His mannerisms were another thing entirely—he lived with a kind of frantic action that produced the sweetest quirks. He made a kind of whistle through his teeth when he spoke too excitedly that none of the other lizards did, and Cordelia had learned that his tail flicked like a playful cat’s when he was thinking very hard about something (and also that he could be easily spooked if you didn’t announce your presence loudly and repeatedly when he was thinking very hard about something). She learned that when he was interested in something he could, and sometimes would, spend hours-to-days talking, thinking, and trying to learn about that thing, even to the extent of forgetting to eat or sleep. She learned that he would share absolutely anything he owned with anyone else, if they just asked, and forget immediately who he had lent it to or that he had ever owned it in the first place. (She learned that his community was kind enough to him—to themselves—that this rarely resulted in anything being actually stolen, as things that could be returned would be.)

It was also, maybe, a little cute how he would unconsciously lean toward her when the two of them were speaking, drawn to her human heat, she had thought at first, and that was likely part of it, but he also drifted toward her when they were just walking together, not even really close enough to feel the level of heat she might give off. (“I’m thigmotactic” he’d explained, and she’d just put that word away for when she had access to a dictionary again.)

Sometimes, affection comes quickly. Sometimes it creeps up on you, slides into your heart like a person into a warm bath at the end of a long day, sweet and slow and ending with a relieved sigh. 

She hadn’t been entirely surprised when some of her crew members had started bedding down with their hosts. What ‘bedding down’ actually meant in this instance she didn’t know—Cordelia had never been one to interfere or pry into her crews’ private lives and she saw absolutely no reason to begin to do so now. But at the very least, it meant sharing a living space, and likely literally sharing a bed, for whatever purpose.

The first man who’d done so had been approached boldly and baldly by one of the women (Cordelia was fairly sure she’d figured out their gender markers at this point), and invited point blank to join her. That poor man had blushed rather spectacularly, especially with the jeers and cheers his crewmates teased him with in the moment, but he’d readily accepted, and after that...well, a good number of her crew had paired themselves off, some seemingly more seriously than others.

It was as though a final dam had been broken—most of them were men, after all, and unattached back home. They all still worked as diligently as ever on repairing the ship, but the reality was that the work it would take to get her airborne again would still be long and gruelling. Like any other sailors or explorers of the past, marooned, but not alone, they made the best of their situations and settled in.

  
  


***

Let it never be said that Cordelia French had shied away from anything. She did, however, still like to make sure she did things properly. She was an observant woman, and she knew when to ask polite, discrete questions, and when not to get offended by a startled laugh or two. When she did approach Ithrij with her new goal in mind, it was with as much confidence as she could muster, given the interspecies, intercultural nature of her intent (and the fairly distractible nature of her target).

“Ithrij?” Cordelia called, as she strode up to him. He was in the middle of something, but he was  _ always _ in the middle of something, so interruption was necessary. He didn’t respond, or even seem to hear her, which was also not unusual.   
  
With a steeling breath of determination, Cordelia stepped right next to him, into what little personal space he actually had, reached out, and stroked his head, right between his eyes.

Ithrij froze for a moment, looking startled, but almost instantly his entire body language transformed. He dropped the tools he was holding, his eyes closed in gentle pleasure, and began nuzzling into her touch as she repeated the gesture. He even began to make a quiet clicking noise, somewhere deep in his throat—it wasn’t purring, not even close really, but that was the best approximation her mind could come up with.

“Ithrij,” Cordelia said again, and she was certain he was listening this time, as he peeked open one eye, just a little. “I’m going to share your hut with you.”

Ithrij closed his eyes again and nuzzled harder, provoking a laugh, the quiet clicking noise becoming much louder and faster. It seemed she’d have to move her things.

***

Cordelia didn’t know how long she and her crew would be stuck here--she barely really knew where they were. She didn’t know what might happen between her and Ithrij, or what it might mean. But life for Cordelia French was an adventure—and she had no intention of shying away from possibility ever again.


End file.
